


How it Happens

by Sugarhihihello



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutually Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarhihihello/pseuds/Sugarhihihello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and Dorian have been sleeping together for a while now, but suddenly both realize they want more, and both are terrified the other doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How it Happens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dichotomous_Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dichotomous_Dragon/gifts), [Syrum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrum/gifts).



> for my two favorite cullrian shippers *\o/*

When it happens, when Cullen _knows_ , it feels like lightning striking him. Sudden and bright and painful, shooting from his heart, down his spine, into his toes. It's so cataclysmic, so life changing, he's breathless when he realizes no one else has noticed.

Dorian is licking the last of the cream off his spoon, laughing at something Varric is saying.

 _I love him_. It doesn't feel new. It feels like discovering something, unearthing a truth that had been inside him all along.

He can't stop staring.

_I love him._

Heat prickles up the back of his neck and he stands, chair scraping.

The group at the breakfast table all gape at him.

“What is it?” Dorian asks.

“I need to...” He doesn't finish. He just runs.

 

\---

  
That night, when most of Skyhold was in bed already, Dorian knocked on the door, a musical rhythm that changed every night but Cullen always knew who it belonged to. They'd been seeing each other for weeks, now. It had started with chess, and flirting, heated looks over the little wooden pieces, casual touches as Dorian left him for the day.

But... _seeing each other._.. it was certainly not in the way Cullen was accustomed to. Dorian had spun into his life like a whirlwind, all hot breath and masterful hands and Cullen's body feeling like decadent fire instead of the dull ache it had been for months.

“In Tevinter,” Dorian had explained, “This sort of thing is common.”

“It's fairly common here, too,” Cullen had laughed. “Just not for me.”

The mage had pulled away at that, grey-green eyes searching his face. “Do you want to stop?”

“No! I mean... No. Of course not.”

Dorian hadn't been convinced. Not until Cullen's hands were on him again, pressing him against the desk, making Dorian ramble in Tevene – a sound that was quickly becoming the Commander's favorite.

It was exactly what Cullen needed – a way to relax, a distraction from the lyrium and his duties – and the two of them were becoming fast friends in the meantime. It was more than he had ever expected, and everything he could hope for.

But not what he _wanted_. Not exactly.

But that was fine. He had Dorian's hands in his hair and their hips rutting together and his name in the mage's mouth and that was _wonderful_ , that was good and real and honest and he could swallow down the fluttering in his gut when they kissed, could hold back the needy grab for Dorian as he slipped away after.

Cullen had so much already, any more would be too much to expect, too much to ask for.

Tonight, however, Cullen only opens the door a crack, keeping the bulk of it as a shield between them. “Not tonight, Dorian.”

“Oh.” Dorian steps back, searches the other man's face, but Cullen's eyes aren't meeting his. “Is there something wrong?”

“No. It's fine.”

“Did... _I_ do something wrong?”

Amber eyes flick to his, then away. “No, Dorian. It's nothing. I just... not tonight, alright?”

“Alright.”

The door closes gently, but firmly, in Dorian's face.

And that's when it happens to Dorian.

Only it doesn't feel like lightning. It feels like panic. Like cold snaking down his spine and his mind whirling through every interaction they've had since the last night they spent together. _What did I do wrong?_ He flips through memories, sorting them. _When did I lose him? How did I mess this up?_

_Don't leave me, Amatus._

_I love you._

He's banging on the door, a fist now, no playful tapping, before he realizes what he's doing.

The door opens immediately. Cullen hadn't stepped away.

Neither of them say anything. Dorian opens his mouth and closes it, trying to find something... but nothing he can say is right.

_Please._

_I love you._

“I...” Dorian breathes. _Kaffas! Why did I knock?_

But Cullen is kissing him, dragging him into the room, slamming the door and pushing him against it, and Dorian gasps, whimpers, moans at every touch, his hands in the other man's hair, a fire in his heart, roaring, blazing, marking him inside and out with the words _I love this man_.

He had felt it coming weeks ago, the little flutter of his pulse at every flirtation, every stolen kiss and heated moment. He had held it back, shoved it down, and suddenly it was screaming through his bones.

_I love him._

“Amatus.” He says as Cullen's teeth graze his collarbone. “Cullen.”

“Say it again.” Those teeth are nipping at his earlobe. “Say my name again.”

“Cullen.”

The other man groans, gathering Dorian's body closer to him, arms holding him fiercely, fists at his back, and suddenly Cullen goes still, quiet.

Dorian's heart pounds as he is held, simply held. The urgency has faded to something softer, something Dorian wants but doesn't know how to accept.

“If I...” Cullen says, voice muffled by Dorian's shoulder. “If I wanted...”

Dorian feels him shake his head, hair tickling his jaw.

“I'm sorry. I just need to be alone right now.”

Cullen pulls away and Dorian feels suddenly cold. He grabs at Cullen's hand, squeezes his fingers tightly before letting them go.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dorian asks.

“There's nothing to say.”

Dorian hesitates. “Do you want to _not_ talk about it? I could just... stay with you.”

He can see Cullen's Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

“Tempting offer.” There's humor in Cullen's voice, a forced grin, but his hands are clenched. “But I'll have to pass.”

“Alright.”

Dorian opens the door, looking over his shoulder at Cullen again, at those tense shoulders and tight fists, then steps outside and closes it behind him.

He rests his forehead on the wood of the door, sighing.

He loves him.

_Fuck._

 

_\---_

 

After that one night, that one hiccup, things had gone back to normal. Cullen and Dorian had _seen each other_ – as Cullen insisted on referring to their nightly activities – and nothing had really changed.

Except Dorian was coming unhinged, suddenly wanting more than he ever dared to want, saying the man's name with a touch more reverence, making up excuses to linger a little longer in the Commander's bed.

“You're pining,” Dorian said to himself in the mirror, glaring hard. “You're Dorian Pavus. You do not _pine_ for uncivilized Fereldans who don't even shave regularly.”

But he did. He was. He'd fallen for the man in the way the ground crumbled beneath him at Adamant and he fell – screaming – into the Fade. That was how he had fallen for Cullen, like the wind being knocked out of him and now he was clutching his stomach on the floor and wondering when the pain would end.

“Now you're just being dramatic,” he grumbled, shoving away from his dressing table to pace in front of the fire in his room, biting the edge of his thumb.

“What are my options?” He muttered. “Do nothing and slowly go mad until all this is over? Until Corypheus is defeated and I go back home?” A swift turn on his heel, back pacing the other direction. “Or I _do something_.” More like say something. _Confess_ something. His heart jumped at the thought. “Tell him I want him for more than his sculpted chest and fine ass. Southerners do that – fall in love – with no one batting an eyelash. It happens.” Courtship and flowers and commitments and everything. People did that down here – _men_ did that down here. Together. For each other.

His heart jumped a little harder, a little higher, scrabbling up his throat at the thought.

Dorian shook himself, mentally dousing himself in cold water.

“He could reject me. And what if he does? Then, well. He's a kind man.” His voice went honey-warm as he said it, despite himself. “He's a good man. A good friend.” Dorian cleared his throat. “He would let me down easy. We could go back to being friends. Nothing would really change, save for a spot of awkwardness. _Then_ I could return to slowly going mad.”

Something quiet and gentle inside him asked, _And if he doesn't reject you?_

Dorian started to smile.

“So that's it, then.” He stopped pacing, squared his shoulders, took a deep breath. “Just... go to the man and say-” _Say what, exactly?_

A half-dozen lines of terrible poetry came to mind, and he had to laugh.

_Dorian, you are such a fool._

“Well. Step one is to go.”

_Maybe the words will come._

Before he could lose his resolve, he pulled open his bedroom door.

 

\---

 

A knock at the door. Cullen stood up from the desk, stretching his hands over his head, popping his neck. _How long have I been working?_

By the darkness outside the window, it had been quite a while.

He crossed to the door and pulled it open.

“Dorian.” Cullen heard the surprise in his voice. He felt what he always did when he saw him - the nervous flutter surrounding an ache just below the skin of his chest, the exact place where Dorian's breath would warm as he pressed his forehead to Cullen's after sex, the softest whisper of that word _Amatus_ before he collapsed against him. “What are you doing here?”

Dorian stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, leaning his hands against it at the small of his back. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, and didn't look away from Cullen's face.

“Dorian,” he said it like a question. “It's late.”

Dorian just stared at him, swallowed again, pale eyes darting across Cullen's face. “Tell me to go, then.” His voice was so low, so quiet.

Cullen's heart clenched. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” Dorian stepped toward the other man, his hands sliding soft against Cullen's hips. The blonde was slightly taller, and Dorian tipped his face up to maintain eye contact. “Something is very, very wrong.”

Cullen's heart was starting to race. He hadn't said it with seduction, with playfulness. This wasn't Dorian trying to get him into bed. This was Dorian trying to... _to what?_ “Dorian?” He whispered.

Dorian's eyes fluttered shut. “Amatus.” He leaned forward, his forehead resting against the other's cheek.

Even with his arms stiff at his side, Cullen nearly melted at the contact. _Maker._ “What are you doing?”

“I truly have no idea.” Dorian chuckled, and they stood near enough together that Cullen could feel it. “I-” Dorian froze mid-sentence, shoulders going rigid. His hands at Cullen's hips balled into fists. “I-” Cullen could feel his hot breath on his neck. “I needed to... tell you something.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Dorian licked his lips. _Fasta vas. Just say it._ “I-”

Cullen's arms snaked around the other man, gently pressing them together. Whatever was happening... Cullen didn't want to jump ahead, or assume - _or hope_ , his mind corrected - but... He rubbed his palms across Dorian's back as he moved to hold him close.

“Amatus,” Dorian breathed, body beginning to shake, breaths uneven.

Cullen leaned his face against the other man's. Lips trembling, he pressed a kiss to Dorian's temple.

Dorian's throat broke on the soft sound he made, bit it off, turned it into a hiss.

“This thing you came to say,” Cullen's voice was rough but he got the words out. “Does it have anything to do with, maybe, taking back your earlier, ah... terms?”

“Terms?” Dorian frowned and Cullen could feel the ruffling of his brow against his cheek.

“The conditions you named before the first time.”

Dorian was drawing a blank. “What?”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” Cullen took his hands away. “Sorry, I was probably wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” Dorian felt the loss of the other man's arms – back suddenly so cold – and jerked his head up. _What are you thinking?_ His eyes searched Cullen's face. “What conditions? I never set any conditions.”

“Nevermind. I... why don't you tell me what you came here to say.” Cullen wasn't meeting his eyes, and was still backing away.

 _He's taking it back._ Holding him, kissing him, touching him so gently. _He's taking it all back_. Dorian couldn't stand it. “Cullen!” He stepped into the space between them, one hand to the other man's face, and kissed him.

Cullen made a low cry in Dorian's mouth, from surprise or desire or- but suddenly the two were pulling each other closer, kisses turning deeper, hands dragging through each others' hair, or gliding up the small of the other's back. They couldn't stop _touching_.

“Dorian.” Cullen pushed him back, hands on his shoulders, forcing them apart. “Don't kiss me like that. I can't do it. I can't _do it_.”

“Why not?” Dorian asked, confusion and doubt fogging his brain. _He really is going to reject me after all,_ he thought.

“Because!” Cullen gave him another push, then folded his arms across his chest, turned his face away. “Maker.” He dragged a hand through his hair then made a fist at the back of his neck.

Dorian swallowed. “I'll just say my peace, then. And then I'll go.”

Cullen said nothing.

 _Fuck, Dorian!_ He shouted at himself inside his head. _You are ruining this_. “I thought that if I came here, the words would take care of themselves. They usually do. But...”

Cullen was glaring at the wall.

“I've never done this before. I've never...” He dug his nails into the palms of his hands. “I've never...” All the blood was rushing to his head, making him dizzy. _Say it!_ “I've never felt like this. Or, I have, I... But not like this.”

Cullen turned to face him. _Dorian_. His hand slowly slid from where it pulled his hair tight and settled at his collarbone.

“I told you. Back home. Things don't... you can't.” Dorian laughed, tried to ground himself. “You've made me speechless, Amatus, and in case you haven't noticed, that doesn't _happen_. Not to me.” Now it was Dorian who couldn't meet the other man's eyes.

“Dorian.”

“Don't.” Dorian held up his hands like he was warding off a blow. “Let me finish.” _Let me get started, more like. Fuck._ “I've felt strongly for someone before, but I've never tried to tell them. I never... This isn't about that. This... Fuck.” He roughly rubbed the knuckle of his thumb against his forehead. “You-” His voice melted over the next words. “ _You_. You are so remarkable. So much more than I thought you would be. “ He laughed again. “Big brutish Fereldan templar – a _templar_ of all things – hitting things with your sword like some kind of savage. But you play chess, and your ears turn pink when anyone points out how damned beautiful you are, and when you have the time to think, you have a mind to rival mine – and that's saying something – and when you're surprised you babble so adorably. You sneak little slices of cake from the kitchens when you think no one's looking but you won't stop working long enough to have a decent meal. You'll work your ass off to get your men the supplies they need to be warm and safe and healthy but you won't even fix your blighted roof!” He was saying it. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Cullen's reaction, not wanting to break the stream of words that he was _finally_ saying. “You're impossible. And _wonderful_. And too good, too honest and noble and true like some ridiculous knight from a fairytale. And you caught me... so off-balance, so... It was fun! Just fun. Until...” He passed his hand over his jaw then dropped it. “I've loved friends before. Friends I couldn't touch, couldn't have. Maybe that's why I was so unprepared.” He swallowed. “Because I _could_ have you. And you _did_ care. And we were _friends_. And I didn't notice. I didn't see. I didn't...”

Dorian's eyes were closed. He wasn't aware the other man had crossed the room until an arm was around the small of his back, a hand tilting his jaw roughly upwards, and Cullen's hot mouth was closing over his.

Dorian's body dissolved with hope, barely able to keep himself standing, holding on to Cullen's arm, his shirt. Cullen pulled away too soon.

“What are you saying, Dorian?” Cullen thumb traced just under Dorian's lower lip.

“I'm saying...” He was shaking. “I...” He licked his lips. “I'm saying...”

“ _Dorian_. Just tell me you care for me.” Cullen's lips were so close as he said it, Dorian could feel his breath on his mouth. “Tell me you want more than what we've been doing. Tell me you want _me_.”

“I want you.” He gasped more than said the words. “More than I've ever wanted anything.”

Cullen kissed him, hands rough in his hair as he pushed him back, back, walking him backwards until his backside hit the edge of the desk and he stumbled back onto it with a yelp.

“Dorian.” Cullen put a knee forward, lowered himself over the other mage. “ _Dorian_.” More kisses, Cullen straddling him, both hands on his face. He kissed Dorian with such intent, deliberate and hard.

Dorian shrugged out from under the other man's mouth. “Not that I don't want you to keep kissing me and never stop, but...” His eyes were wide, taking in as much of Cullen's face as he could. From where they were, all he could really see was the side of his face.

Cullen smiled, pulling back. “But it's my turn to say something, isn't it?”

Dorian swallowed. _Panic_. “You don't have to.”

“Dorian.” Another kiss, sweet and gentle. “I've had feelings for you for so long.” A thumb stroking Dorian's cheek. “I never thought you wanted me to.”

“Say it.” Dorian was breathing hard. “Please.”

Cullen bent over the other man, bracing himself, holding Dorian up, steadying him as he lowered his mouth to his ear. “Dorian,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Dorian felt the words in his chest, in his spine, in his knees. He could barely move to kiss Cullen back, could barely keep his arms around him. _This is what it feels like_ , he thought, _to love someone, and to have them love you back._ So good he could barely stand it. He had only dared to want Cullen to say _care_ , or _want_ , or _feel_ , but Cullen had said _love_.

 _Love_.

Cullen's lips drew along his throat, to his collarbone. _You're mine_ , Cullen thought. _You're finally, finally mine_. He smiled hard, pushing aside the straps of Dorian's ridiculous outfit to kiss his chest.

“I love you,” Cullen said again.

Dorian closed his eyes, took two deep breaths as the Commander's hands and mouth roamed his body in ways they hadn't before – the same motions, but slower, softer, _more_.

Dorian licked his lips, took one last shuddering breath, and told the truth.

“And I love you, Cullen.”

**Author's Note:**

> Omg!! Look at this amazing art deliriumexmachina did of this fic!! - [It's so great](http://deliriumexmachina.tumblr.com/post/114050761007/pencil-sketch-for-andrastesass-s-fic-how-it)
> 
> FINALLY I GET IN ON THE CULLRIAN ACTION. (It is about TIME)
> 
> I really struggled with this entire piece because it's so out of character for Dorian to be the fist to confess but I WANTED TO MAKE HIM DO IT. I wanted to see what a Dorian love confession would look like. And I think (hope!!) I got it right. 
> 
> Also just a fun note... the first scene (when Cullen realizes his feelings) is directly inspired by the first time I realized I was in love with my now-husband (8 years ago, over lunch in the high school cafeteria). And I literally stood up and RAN. Hahaha. :P Like that paragraph is literally how it happened. :P
> 
> My dragon age tumblr: [Andraste's Ass](http://andrastesass.tumblr.com)


End file.
